


There, There, There

by deadgirlwalkin



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, F/M, It's the teen angst Veronica we know and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgirlwalkin/pseuds/deadgirlwalkin
Summary: In which Veronica hates and loves J.D. all at once.





	There, There, There

For weeks after that night, it haunted her.  
It was easier when he was around – when they sat in his room, when she lay awake in her own bed and happened to glance at her window – it was easy to reach over and touch his face, his hands, his shoulders. The ghost of his fingertips on her skin could be replaced with new memories, and she could sink back into him, the way one sinks into their first love, their high school sweetheart, and the ache she felt for him could be satisfied. She could kiss him again; his lips, his cheeks, his clavicle were all there, inviting, and she could close her eyes at that sound he made at the back of his throat as his fingers fumbled with her buttons, or her bra clasp. Each time after that night was something new, something special – and even as her love gave way to horror, as she pleaded with him to start a new life, a normal life – the feeling of his hands on her never left her memory, and the thought of those wretched hands at once chilled her to the bone and set her nerves on fire.  
After he left, it was harder.  
In that closet she knew things would never be the same again. They would never be able to come back from this – this hell he had brought upon them. She hadn’t been sure if there was an afterlife before she met him; afterwards she was positive that wherever she was going in life, in death she’d be plunged into fire and brimstone for what they’d done. She was prepared to go, and even as the gun went off and blood soaked his shirt, his hands – she was prepared for things to be over, to end.  
Except they weren’t, and they hadn’t.  
After the initial shock died down she felt numb, number than any slushie could make her – hell, she couldn’t even think about slushies anymore, couldn’t pass a 7/11 without thinking of him, without remembering his eyes, his hands – on her. She could still feel them on her skin, fumbling with her shirt buttons, or her bra clasp – and if she closed her eyes she could hear the pop of the window lock breaking, the movement of his hips against hers, his lips against hers, and every time after that paled in comparison to the night she sold her soul to the devil. She couldn’t satisfy that ache, and though she reached out in the darkness of her room her fingers always seemed to catch only the tail end of his trench coat, only the tips of his fingers. He was beyond her reach, and though she had stayed behind, a part of her wished she hadn’t.  
There was only one thing she knew for certain: she was going to hell eventually. She just hoped that she’d see him there.

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt to explore Veronica's conflicting feelings about J.D. after he blows her off at the pep rally.


End file.
